The Owl's Tale 2: Travels With Trolls
by Nimbus 1944
Summary: In nearby Hordgrund, the goblins are disappearing, one by one.
1. Chapter 1

**The Owl's Tale 2: Travels With Trolls**  
**In nearby Hordgrund, the goblins  
are disappearing, one by one.**

Original story material is the property of the fanfic author; other material of Rowling et al. falls under the usual disclaimer. Icelandic chapter headers from Cleasby-Vigfusson. _Colossal Cave Adventure_ created 1976 by Will Crowther. _Hogwarts Forever_ is set to John Williams' theme of the same name (HP CD1, track 9, 0:00-0:31).

* * *

**1. Trolla-saga**

"Let us all stand together now and sing the School Song."  
The boys stand. Some of them look at each other a bit  
uncertainly. A piano starts boldly, but no one knows  
the words or the tune. An awful flat cacophany results.  
_- Tompkinson's Schooldays_

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore,  
"and off we go!" And the school bellowed.  
_- Philosopher's Stone_

We have previously related the adventures of Hedwig, the trio and the Sorting Hat on a trip to the time of Salazar Slytherin, in September of Fourth Year. If you must know the full story of this fivesome as a team, we should also relate certain events in the neighbourhood of Hogwarts in December of that same year.

By this time, Ron had apologised to Harry for his attitude about the Goblet of Fire incident, and Christmas was fast approaching. We find the trio early one Saturday morning, walking toward the Headmaster's office.

"You sure you won't get us in trouble for this, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Not at all," she replied. "I asked Dumbledore for permission in advance, since he was going to be away until Christmas morning."

"Enlighten me. Why do you need to talk to that old hat?"

"Because it can help me define the S.P.E.W. manifesto. Ron, it knows more about the house-elves over time than anyone else! It should — the hat's been around since before they even defined magical beings."

"It's not going to sing to us, is it?"

"You know how the hat is, Ron. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

She paused in front of the statue of the phoenix and said, _"Sugarplum."_

The holiday password worked, and the intrepid Gryffindor trio proceeded into the passage to the Headmaster's office. The nattering went on.

"Hermione — didn't Binns say a being is any creature that can speak Human?"

"Not exactly; Ron; that was the old definition. What's your point?"

"Because then, the hat is a being, too, and why do we call it 'it'?"

"I don't know; they used to say 'him' when it was created. If you think it's a being, why don't you ask your father about it?"

"Ask my father... Oh, c'mon, Hermione, I know there aren't boy sorting-hats and girl sorting-hats and little baby sorting-hats!"

Hermione snickered. "That's not what I meant, Ron. Your father would tell you the hat is a charmed Muggle artifact! Sure, it thinks and speaks and remembers, and so on, but it's no more a being than the paintings here, or the talking mirror in the girls' dorm."

"Okay, fine," conceded Ron. "Why do you only want to help beings? Why not, say, pixies? Or trolls?"

"Beasts aren't being misused every day like house-elves, who have reasoning, speech, feelings and even magical abilities. Why aren't elves free and equal, like goblins?"

"Ummmm...because elves want to be servants, and aren't devilishly trickly little blighters like the goblins, who want to run wizard banks?"

"I don't think we've ever given elves a chance to run a bank...or much else."

"They run the Hogwarts kitchen pretty well," insisted Ron.

"That's hardly a bank. Why isn't there even one elf on the Hogwarts teaching staff?"

"Maybe because Cleaning and Cooking aren't in the exams. Uh... who's that humming?"

"Ahem.. That would be me," said a familiar imperious voice from a high shelf. "I'd throw my hat into the ring here, but so far you haven't asked me anything."

"Okay. Why are you humming?" asked Ron.

The Sorting Hat paused. "Why, that's my Hogwarts school song!"

"Oh, spare me. You're to blame for that song with the knobby knees and all?"

"That detestable thing? No! I wrote my own school song. It hasn't caught on yet. Give it time, I say."

"Why? When did you write it?"

"1672."

Ron pondered that a second, then nodded, "Yeah. You've gotta give it more time."

"It's called _Hogwarts Forever_. Alas, I think the students would rather sing that tuneless knobby-knees travesty. Care to hear mine?"

"Sure, sure," sighed Harry, looking toward the ceiling. If his bickering friends were not enough noise, he had endured wearing the insistant, talkative hat for several days on their September adventure. "We're going to hear it anyway, aren't we?"

"Glad you asked, Potter!" And so the hat sang:

**_"Happy we hail you,  
O hallowed haven, Hogwarts,  
Beacon of light  
Through the ages of dark,  
Herald of magic  
For students brave and stalwart!  
Hat having spoken,  
Houses betokened,  
Hogwarts, forever  
Convey the spark!"_**

Ron sneered. "I see you put yourself in the song."

"May I finish, Weasley?"

"You mean there's _more?_"

"May I finish?"

"Please... and soon!"

**_"Warp us and waft us,  
O wizard-weaver, Hogwarts,  
Wrought from the spindles  
Of wise ones of yore.  
Wizards and witches  
Of prestidigious riches,  
Willing and worthy,  
Watchful and sturdy.  
Hogwarts forever,  
Forevermore!"_**

The hat got its usual mixed reception. Hermione applauded. Harry did a few very slow claps, just to be polite. Ron hoped the concert was over; his cough sounded remarkably like "Crrraaap." He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I can't see why you don't sing that one to Dumbledore every morning when he arrives."

Having had enough already, the boys waved good-bye to Hermione and headed toward the door.

"That's _Professor_ Dumbledore," corrected the hat. "Actually, I have auditioned it for every headmaster since 1672, but not every one appreciated it."

"How many did?" asked Harry.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be honoured to be the first — if I can change his mind about it before he retires."

"Don't quit your day job," muttered Harry, leaving Hermione to her task.

"Beg pardon?" asked the hat.

-o-

After the middday meal, the boys went about their separate diversions (including occasional sightings of Fleur and Cho), but Hermione had decided to brave the cold and sleet.

"Harry, I'm off to Hogsmeade," said Hermione. "I've got to pick up shampoo at Mugglestuff, and I'm introducing Ginny to high tea, and we'll probably chat with Mrs. Noonan in the book shop. Can I get you anything?"

"I suppose I'll need a black polish for my dress shoes — unless you know a shoe-shining charm. Do they stock polish?"

"I'll look. If not, I'm sure we'll find a quick and permanent potion in the library. Anything for Ron?"

"Only if they rent dates for the Yule Ball."

"No, Harry. You two will actually have to approach girls, smile, be nice, and invite them."

"Sounds simple enough — _but_."

She smiled. "You and Ron are quite hopeless, did you know? I'll bring you sugar quills. Ron desperately needs a little sweetening. See you later."

"Later."

-o-

Hermione seemed distracted when she returned at the midday meal. A friend of Ginny's had given her a sample of a magazine called the _Quibbler_. She pointed out the first story, and they read:

**Castle Troll Discounted In  
Disappearance of Goblins **

by Orton Hall

Is a troll enslaving goblins? That's the suspicion of several  
residents of Hordgrund, a goblin town in mountainous Kent  
County of Scotland, but the Ministry finds no reason to agree.

The quiet little town, shielded from curious Scots by charms,  
is built on an early Celtic settlement north of Hogsmeade, and  
later housed elves working in local copper mines until the veins  
played out in 1820. It surrounds the stark Hordgrund "castle",  
a Celtic monastery left in ruins until restored in the 1860s by a  
wizard, Elbert Crowther, for his home. It was abandoned when  
he died in 1919, as his Muggle heirs couldn't locate it. Icelandic  
goblins repopulated the village; the castle itself was taken over by  
a family of forest trolls. An uneasy arrangement kept these two  
disparate families safely apart. The trolls crossed town at roof-  
top level, on a causeway, to reach their mutual hunting ground,  
while the goblins keep to the streets. Their tacit agreement has  
withstood 74 long years. Nowadays, only one troll survives on  
the castle grounds — aging, injured, and hardly hunting anymore.

The problem of late concerns the disappearance of goblins with  
increasing frequency. At the beginning, townsfolk thought the  
vanished — a spinster teacher, an old chimney sweep and three  
young goblins — had merely gone missing on their own accord.

As the number has increased, they now surmise the remaining  
old troll might have enslaved them as labourers in his castle, or  
forced them into hunting for him — or, even traded them to  
other trolls for goods. Rumours are rampant in Hordgrund.

The Ministry's Goblin Relations Office, pressed for comment,  
replied they have found no reason to suspect foul play, and are  
inclined to agree the goblins might have left town for personal  
reasons. At least one did; a teenage goblin left a note that she  
was off to Paris, to pursue a career as a haute-couture model.

Ron found that last mental picture hilarious; Hermione did not.

"What's so funny, Ron?"

"A glamourous goblin model? Tell me they're joking!"

"Ron, you have no tolerance at all."

"Okay, she's gorgeous. Maybe next month she'll be the centerfold in _Party Wizard_."

"And what would you know about centerfolds in that trashy, male chauvinist rag?"

Ron got very reticent. "Well... not that I ... I mean, this Sixth Year left one lying around in our dorm wing, and I couldn't help... well, just checking it out, and..."

Hermione let him off the hook. "Okay, Ron, spare me the rest. I'm curious, though, about several things in this _Quibbler_ story — speaking of trashy rags. I knew there had been elfin miners in Britain, but not near Hogwarts. And then, disappearing goblins! Perhaps the troll has them working as slaves in the mines — assuming a _Quibbler_ story is actually true."

Ron, of course, jumped in feet-first. "No. It can't be. Tell me you're not concerned about _goblin_ welfare, now!"

"And why not?"

Harry just rolled his eyes. "Hermione, what do you suggest we do about it?"

"I should pay a visit to Hordgrund tomorrow, before the weather goes bad again."

"How are you going to get there?"

"By broom, of course. They say it's only a few miles north of here."

"Hermione, you don't fly. You hate it."

"It's all in the interests of science and social consciousness. I shall overcome my fears long enough to fly there and back, to talk to the goblins."

"Alone?"

"Of course not."

"We're conscripted, I take it?"

"Whether you wanted to or not."

"I thought so."

"Thanks," smiled Hermione. "First, let's visit my consultant again."


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Trolla-hlad**

You are in a little maze of twisting passages.  
- _Colossal Cave Adventure_

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages.  
- _Philosopher's Stone _

"Yes, I'm familiar with Hordgrund," said the Sorting Hat. "Odd arrangement, but rather straightforward. Goblins in town, trolls in the castle, never the twain shall meet, end of story."

"Perhaps not," said Hermione. "The _Quibbler_ thinks the troll might have taken some missing goblins as slaves. I want to ask questions in Hordgrund, but don't know where to start."

"Then you want to speak to the goblin leader. They'll have someone in charge, like a mayor or alderman. He'll be used to dealing with humans. Mind that he'll probably be an elder, and therefore speaks Icelandic."

"We have the _Lingus_ charm, remember. And how could we get into the castle to look around?"

"Oh, milady! After your experience with a mountain troll, you shan't want to walk into a forest troll's den! For that matter, you wouldn't want to fly over it, either. Forest trolls can be dull, yes, but they're very good hunters, and have even learned the arts of archery and trapping. They hunt the sky as well as the ground. I wouldn't recommend your going anywheres near the castle — even sneaking in."

"Oh? Are you implying there's a sneaky way in, if it became necessary?"

The hat grinned. "Well... yes, there is. But you would need Crowther's _Adventure_."

"Adventure?" asked Harry.

"It was a guidebook. When Elbert Crowther owned Hordgrund and the castle, he used the abandoned mines under the town as a rainy-day diversion for his visitors. He gave them a printed guide to the multi-level tunnels, and invited them to find their way through the maze back to the castle. The guidebook was a bit of a puzzle, thus the element of adventure. But if you followed it faithfully, it worked. Actually, Headmaster Dippet took the tour in his younger days — so, Professor Dumbledore might still have a copy of Crowther's _Adventure _in this very room!"

"Oh, fine," moaned Ron. "It couldn't be in the library, where Madam Pince could put her finger on it in a minute. There must be thousands of books and papers in this room! Forget it."

Yet another voice piped up near the doorway. "Hem. Uh, perhaps I might be of help in that regard."

They all turned, startled, and at first they saw no one. Then, the portrait of Armando Dippet waved at them, and spoke again. "Over here, young'uns. You're looking for my old copy of _Adventure_, are you?"

Harry recovered. "Yes, Professor. Is it still here?"

"Most certainly, Potter. I can see it from here, by Weasley's knee. Second shelf up, a thin red-leather volume, with a gold tassel down the spine."

"Erm… this one?" asked Ron, reaching for it.

"Precisely, m'boy. Fascinating trip, that. Are you lot going to walk the tunnels?"

"No way!" said Hermione. "Harry, you're a Hogwarts Triwizard champion; you have enough on your plate already. You don't want to injure yourself now, crawling around in some ancient underground tunnel. What if there was a cave-in? Are you going to dig yourself out with some charm I don't know about?"

"It 's for the good of the goblins, Hermione," sputtered Ron.

"Ron, the caves have nothing to do with the goblins."

"Oh, do you know that for a fact, really? Wouldn't it be funny if the Ministry was wrong, and the troll has the missing goblins working in the mines? I suppose you're positive they aren't there, Hermione? Or shan't we take a peek?"

"Ooooh, you two! Alright, take your tour underground, but on one condition: I'm going in there with you."

"We're so lucky. How are you gonna help us?"

"The hat says the book is a puzzle. You'll have to carefully read it to get through, Ron. Of the three of us, who reads best?"

"Oh… yeah."

"And bring a compass," said Dippet, before going back to sleep.

"A compass?" asked Harry.

-o-

On Sunday morning, Harry went to notify one more participant — one who could go get help if they got in trouble.

He finally spotted Hedwig snoozing near the top of the Gryffindor alumni observation tower at the Quidditch pitch. An informal match between Dumstrang visitors was in progress.

"Hedwig!" he shouted.

Hedwig opened her eyes sleepily, and was surprised to find herself surrounded by the zooming Quidditch players. Then, she saw Harry on the field below.

_Hi, boss, _thought Hedwig_. Can't come right now. Busy airspace and all that. Definitely a hazard to life and wing._

"Hedwig, come now!"

_Are you joking? __With bludgers and humans flying in all directions? I'd sooner fly across Heathrow on a Friday afternoon._

"HEDWIG!"

_Thanks, but I think I'll watch from here. Who's winning?_

"Oh, for… I'm really, really sorry about this, but you can peck me later. _Accio _Hedwig!"

_I wish you hadn't said that._

Hedwig was snatched off the ledge by the invisible hand of magic. She was whooshed, feet first, in a bee-line towards Harry. _This is uncivilised, undignified and unnecessary! _she opined. Hedwig hadn't taken an involuntary flight like this since the Ford Anglia ejected her cage.

Harry was almost bowled over when the two-foot-tall owl slammed into him, squawking and flapping. "Sorry, Hedwig. When I need you, I need you."

_You know, I miss the old Harry, when you didn't know your Accio from your elbow._

-o-

"What's in the sack, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I'll tell you later," he answered. "Right now, I just want to get the sack out of the school unseen."

"Are you giving it enough air?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because the sack is wriggling."

"It's fine. It's just being annoying."

"Harry! You don't have Hedwig in there, do you?"

"No, Hedwig stopped to check the post. She'll be here in a moment. This is just something to help us observe in Hordgrund."

She looked askance at that, but allowed Harry his little mystery package.

Hermione refused to pilot a broom by herself, and spent the entire flight clinging tightly to Ron with her eyes shut. Ron, who could usually be counted on to object to anything Hermione suggested, did not object at all. Harry carefully carried Crowther's _Adventure _and the sack; Hedwig the Navigator led the way.

Once within sight of the castle and town, they landed in a clearing. Ron had to peel Hermione's hands off, and reassure her that she could open her eyes, unwrap her legs from the broom and step off on planet Earth.

"Don't forget the hat, Harry," she said, brushing off her clothes.

"What hat?" asked Ron.

"The wriggling whatsit in Harry's sack! It _must_ be the Sorting Hat. Who else would he call 'it'?"

"Oh, for... Harry, what's that old hat gonna do? Sing the troll to sleep?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "But it knows a bit about Hordgrund and goblins. It doesn't have to say anything — and you don't have to debate it, y'know."

"You asked permission to bring it, of course?" questioned Hermione.

"Erm..." said Harry, and smiled guiltily. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Right silly of me to ask. Sorry."

"Here's the _Adventure _book, Hermione. I'll wear the hat..."

The hat emerged from the sack. "I'd much prefer a hatbox over a sack," it remarked, "but that wasn't too bad a trip."

Harry put on the hat. "And here's our pocket compass." It was a very expensive-looking one, almost black with the patina of old silver left unpolished, 'borrowed' from Dumbledore's instrument collection.

Hedwig was left to guard their brooms while they walked the icy path to Hordgrund. They had a chance to see the castle from a distance, sitting on a hill in the middle of town. It was not nearly as tall and impressive as Hogwarts, but low and spread out, with good defensive walls. They also saw the causeway from the castle gate to the forest — the troll's private path, about 30 feet above street level.

"By the way, Hermione, I'm doing you a favour," chuckled Ron.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm working up a new name for your expanded organisation. So far, it's the Society for the protection of all goblins, humans and elves toiling incessantly."

She thought it over a moment. "All goblins, humans and... oh, very funny, Ron."

"What did I miss?" asked Harry.

"I think he's trying to change it from S.P.E.W. to S.P.A.G.H.E.T.T.I., but he's short one T word. Nice try, through, Ron."

"I'll work on it," said Ron, smirking. "Always here to help, Hermione."

Hermione cast the _Lingus _charm as they entered town. Even if the townspeople — er, townsgoblins spoke their native Icelandic, they'd still be able to chat with them.

The younger goblins seemed to be English-speaking, but the charm came in handy when they were directed to an elder named Boda, who headed the town council. Hermione introduced the trio and told Boda how she became curious about their missing citizens.

She couldn't resist mentioning her advocacy group, and promising to expand it to include goblin welfare. Boda was a good fatherly listener, nodding a lot, but made no comment on S.P.E.W. (or S.P.A.G.H.E.T.I.).

"If the missing goblins are still around here somewheres, can't they shout for help?" asked Ron.

"Have you ever heard a goblin shout, boy?" asked Boda. "Humans shout; goblins cannot. Goblins use horns and ravens over any distance. If they are without either in a time of need, they are lost."

Harry tried. "But... when a goblin leaves town, doesn't he take his personal raven along? Why not send the raven for help when the goblin gets trapped?"

Boda shook his head. "Again, that is human thinking. We do not possess the ravens; they are their own kind. We live among each other; we choose to befriend them, shelter them, hunt with them, and care for their injured and helpless ones. They choose to carry our posts as the owls carry yours. Goblins have no personal ravens."

"Has the troll ever threatened harm," asked Hermione, "or has he been seen trying to capture anyone?"

"No. This was my problem when the Ministry came to town. I could not convince them that the troll is an ever-present and unpredictable threat as he ages."

"But he must get around. Mustn't he chop a lot of wood to stay warm in that castle?" asked Harry.

"No. He enjoys one luxury of your world — the magical fires still burn that heated and lit the castle in its wizard days."

"But obviously, he still hunts, and cares for himself?" wondered Hermione.

"We still see him hunt, but less and less. He may be trading with other trolls for some of his needs -- but what does he have to trade? He carries live deer to the castle occasionally, so he may be impounding — fencing them in for his less active days, as he sees us do in the hard winter-times. He often hunts the sky; for both food and sport. Too many young ravens have been lost to his swift arrows —which is why we would warn you and your owls against flying over the castle."

"We stopped a mountain troll once," bragged Ron. "We could handle this git if we needed to."

"With what?" questioned Boda. "Your bare hands? This is no doltish mountain troll. Be safe, boy; do not underestimate him as a killer."

-o-

The _Adventure_ book began by leading them to an overgrown path, where a heavy-looking iron grating was set in the forest floor. Ron was proud to show off his _Wingardium leviosa _charm again. The grating only rose an inch or so, wobbling, but enough so that they could shove it aside.

They climbed down a ladder to find themselves at the intersection of several tunnels, including another ladder going down. Consulting the guide, they found —

_**You are in a room at the base of a ladder.**_

_**To the North is a maze of twisty little passages.  
To the West is a little maze of twisting passages.  
To the East is a little twisty maze of passages.  
To the South is a twisty maze of little passages.  
Down is a passage of amazing little twists.  
Up is the ladder to the grating.**_

_**Follow the little twisty maze.**_

"They've got to be kidding!" exclaimed Ron. 

Hermione sighed, exasperated as always. "Get used to it, Ron — the book's full of these. We have to concentrate and _read_ them — carefully! The 'little twisty maze' is East. Now for the compass. Harry?"

"Um... East is that one," he pointed.

They followed that tunnel to another intersection, at which three tunnels had signs with more of the same confusing designations, but two had no sign. The booklet only said —

_**Follow the twisty passage of little mazes.**_

Ron chanted that mantra while turning about, reading the signs around him — and came up empty.

"It's not labled! So it's one of the two unlabled ones. How are we supposed to know which one?"

Harry tried a guess. "Because one of them is the one we came through — this one — and we know what that is, and that's not it. Right, Hermione?"

"Right!" she smiled. "I'll leave some Christmas treats on the floor to mark our return route, and I'll pick them up as we leave."

"Aren't you afraid that cave rats might eat them?"

"Not really. They're owl treats I bought in Hogsmeade — and I wouldn't be surprised if they're largely dead mouse. Let's be off."

The next room had signs simply saying East, West, and so forth, but not in the usual order. The instruction was:

_**Follow the correct tunnel.**_

The compass said the West tunnel was the only one correctly labeled. That led down a curving tunnel to another choice, for which the guide read:

_**Keep going the same way.**_

Unfortunately, they couldn't walk straight across the room, because there was no tunnel there — only left and right. They finally decided it meant to keep going west again, so they consulted the compass and went west.

The twisty paths and intersections went on and on, for about an hour. It included such tricks as tunnels with a slightly different name at each end, tunnels that doubled back through the same intersection twice, and tunnels that left vertically and ended horizontally.

They finally came to a room that was built of stone, and labled _The Last Room_. East, west and south tunnels were lit with wizard fire, still burning after a century. The Up and Down tunnels were dark. The book's command:

_**Be impoverished.**_

Hermione was finally stumped. "It's the last room, and the last page, so one tunnel is our exit. But.. impoverished? I know it means poor, but what...?"

"This way, Hermione," crowed Ron smugly, and started descending the ladder in the floor.

"How did you decide that?"

"Easy... 'cos poor is when you're 'down and out.' Follow me."

Sure enough, it led out through an darkened archway into a open courtyard. Hermione looked around for landmarks, in case they had to retrace their way to the tunnel. The eccentric Crowthers had placed signs over the various archways, inscribed with gibberish; theirs was XYZZY.

In the center of the icy courtyard was a deer pound, built around an overgrown apple tree. The high wrought-iron fence corraled two deer; after a brief staring match with the trio, the deer returned to eating what fallen fruit still littered the ground. The hat seemed particularly interested in this unusual sight.

Hermione turned to Ron and whispered, "I hope you noted, Ron, that there were no signs of enslaved goblins in the mines."

"You noticed that right off, did you?" he griped. "Happy now?"

Harry was more concerned about their health. "Okay, guys, we got through. I'd love to go searching the castle, but let's get back through the cave before the troll shows up."


	3. Chapter 3

**3. At troll síd-förull**

Every exit is an entry somewhere else.  
- Tom Stoppard

And then they heard it — a low grunting,  
and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet.  
_- Philosopher's Stone_

On the return trip through the cave, the boys had no work to do. They merely followed Hermione as she confidently followed her trail of owl treats.

_It's lucky we brought her_, thought Harry.

_**Quite right**_, replied the hat, in Harry's mind only.

_What... Are we talking mentally?_

_**Yes, unless you need to move your lips to think.**_

_No, this is fine. How did you like the trip?_

_**Great fun. As always, the three of you work together very well.**_

_I know. Ron and I would never have found our way through the cave without Hermione._

_**Weasley does his part as well. He has foresight, and can ask very penetrating questions. He is more valuable than you know. **_

_With three sets of eyes, plus you, we probably saw everything that could be seen._

_**Yes. It was curious, though, about the animal pound in the courtyard.**_

_What was curious?_

_**Oh, come now! You didn't notice it? I was looking through your eyes when I saw it!**_

_Saw what?_

_**The boot, Potter! I'm surprised you or Miss Granger didn't remark about it.**_

_I'm sorry, but what boot?_

_**The boot wedged between the fence posts. Couldn't be more obvious. Oh, I imagine you lot were in a hurry to leave, and overlooked it.**_

_That's odd. Why would the troll leave a boot?_

_**I doubt it was his. It was much too small for him. No, one of your goblins may have left it there... though I can't imagine why. **_

_So you think a goblin got into the troll's courtyard? _

_**Perhaps. Wouldn't it be difficult to walk with just one remaining boot, though?**_

_Yes, although that wouldn't matter, if he was desperate enough to tell someone that he had been there. I may have to go back to look at this again! If it was a signal, maybe there's a message in it._

_**Ah, another journey! I'll be ready. It's good to get out of the office for a field trip once in a while.**_

_Not this time. It'll have to be during the week, at night._

_**Potter! Don't tell me you and Weasley are going against school rules again!**_

_Okay, I won't tell you. In fact, I may have to go alone._

_**Without your close-knit companion?**_

_To tell the truth, we've been quarreling a bit, off and on; it's a long story. I think we're okay again now, but I'll need to move quietly and quickly to sneak around that castle at night. That's best done on my own. I'll tell him I really need him to stay at Hogwarts, to raise an alarm in case of trouble, and that's quite true. I'll take Hedwig to carry messages. Now, I don't want you telling anyone, not even Hermione or Dumbledore. I'm swearing you to it. Will you keep it secret?_

_**Very well, if you insist. You have my word that I won't tell anyone. Just be careful, Potter... and watch out for any traps. Mind Boda's warning! This fellow is hardly the mountain troll you dealt with. **_

-o-

By midweek, bad weather threatened to delay Harry's plans. A substantial storm front was expected to bring days of heavy rainfall and snow, arriving by mid-evening. If he wanted to take his trip before Christmas, he'd only have the next few hours, so he made his decision to escape at the end of classes. With the whole school distracted by their visitors' presence, he wasn't noticed as he went to the quidditch team room for his broom. He used it to quickly fetch Hedwig from the owlery, and headed off under cover of a brief snow squall at dusk.

The trip to the woods near Hordgrund was quick and uneventful. Harry warned Hedwig about the troll's hunting skills, instructing her to only come looking for him if he stayed away too long. Otherwise, he'd visit the courtyard, check the boot for a message, discretely look for clues, and return to Hedwig in about an hour.

He flew low, barely above the battlements, circling the castle until he spotted what looked like the courtyard they had been in. With the snow falling and little available light, he could barely make out the outline of the apple tree and deer pound. The two startled deer were still there, penned for some future time when infirmity or bad weather kept the troll from the hunting grounds more than a day or so. He landed in a dark corner and hid the broom under snow.

Harry couldn't hide here; even his invisibility cloak wouldn't have helped. If the troll showed up, his footprints in the snow would give him away. He had no time to waste.

He looked at the pound fence, and indeed, there was a boot wedged between the posts as before. In fact, there were now _two _boots! Had the hat missed seeing the second one? Or, had yet _another_ goblin passed through the courtyard and left a boot since the weekend? If only he had taken time to speak to Boda, and ask about any new disappearances! Well, he'd just have to check both boots.

The first one had accumulated a coating of ice and snow, and was cold and inflexible. Harry guessed that this was the original boot, which had been there for days, perhaps since the freezing rain of the previous week. There was no message in it.

The second boot had only today's light snow on it, and was still fairly soft. This time, he had better luck; there were some words scratched in the leather. Under cover of his robe, he lit his wand tip and read the scribbled words on it: _GO NO FURTHER._

So! Whoever had written that must have already encountered the troll, and knew he was in trouble. Harry put the message and boot back in the fence to warn any later visitors.

That still left a basic puzzle. In the middle of the winter, why would a goblin take one boot off? He couldn't get about very well with one boot on, and his foot might eventually freeze.

Or, was that part of the message — that the outlook was so dire that he wasn't going to be walking, and wasn't going to be outdoors long enough to freeze? Where did the troll move him, and what was the goblin doing now? Slaving like a house-elf? Mining in a cave they hadn't seen? Somehow hunting for the troll, unseen by the other goblins? It still didn't make sense to Harry.

There were several doorways around him, with Crowthers' mad signs. He remembered XYZZY was the cave entrance — but what mystery might be looming through YZXXY, XXZYY, and XYZYZ?

He had to leave soon, as Hedwig was waiting. He peered in one doorway, and saw nothing but an old door, which he did not dare to open. He tried another arch —

— and, unfortunately, stepped into one of the troll's traps, a pit with a heavily weighted net. If he had a lot more time, he might have struggled enough to reach his wand, but his fall had also sounded a crude gong, signaling the end of his explorations.

-o-

Hedwig grew impatient. Owls don't carry watches, but she had a fair idea that too much time had past. Then, too, there was that gong that rang. Was Harry in trouble? She was worried enough that she finally took to flight.

Her owlish talent for seeking Harry led her to a top-floor window in the castle. Inside, in dim light, Harry sat on a littered floor, his robe gone — and with it, no doubt, his wand, or he would have done something by now to get out of this room.

Hedwig pecked the glass. Harry, noticing her, got up and tried to open the window, but it was too high off the floor for short Harry.

She looked around for any other way in, and decided the chimney might be hard for flying out, but she could drop in anyway. She could see the whole fireplace opening below, so there was no obstruction — and ashes, but no fire. It was a large opening, and fairly short. Opting to take a brave chance, she hopped into the flue.

Harry was a bit surprised when his once-white owl tumbled into the fireplace in a cloud of powder snow and soot, but he knew he'd have to take advantage of the situation, and quickly. He looked about the room for writing materials, then picked up the only ones he could find and.scratched out his message.

"Bear with me, Hedwig, this may be a weird way to send a message — but it's all I have. It's very, very important. Take this to Ron right off, and make sure he reads it."

She took it, and tried flying out, but without success. As wide and short as the flue was, she couldn't spread her wings and flap. Harry finally stepped in; while she sat on his hand, he extended his arm as far up the chimney as he could reach, then heaved her. That was the ticket; Hedwig took off for Hogwarts.

It wasn't their night. She promptly ran straight into the oncoming storm.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Troll-aukmn**

To everything there is a season,  
A time for every purpose under the heavens;  
A time to be born,  
And a time to die.  
_- Ecclesiastes _

"You're too nosy to live, Potter."  
- _Philosopher's Stone_

Ron paced the dorm floor, worrying.

_Where's Harry? Where's Hedwig? Why didn't they come back?_

_This is all wrong!_

There seemed to be no possible way out of his quandry, except to move now, before the storm got any worse — if it could get any worse! Ron gathered his thoughts and pocketed his wand, the compass and the tunnel guide. In the Quidditch lockers, he nicked a school broom, and flew away toward Hordgrund.

About halfway, as Hedwig battled her way south toward Hogwarts in the howling wind and torrential downpour, Ron rocketed northward past her — neither spotting the other.

-o-

Hedwig finally arrived at Hogwarts, exhausted. Though it was just a few miles, she had undergone several hours of flying through the staggering ferocity of the storm. She tried tapping at the usual window between Ron's bed and Harry's, but Ron didn't answer. Hedwig's radar-like ability to find anyone was failing her, in the distraction of weariness and the weather.

_Where is Ron?_

Usually, she would wait patiently, but not now. Hedwig knew Harry's message needed immediate attention. She checked the common-room window, but he was not there; then, she flew to tap on another pane — one that she had rarely needed to visit before.

Hermione awoke with a start. She had often heard the pecking of owls at her window at home, but here, in this weather? Then she saw it was Hedwig, and knew it must be important. She struggled with the sticky iron latch and opened the creaky window to the storm and to a very wet owl.

Once Hedwig was inside and had delivered the message, Hermione's eyes widened. It was hard to read by candlelight or _lumos_ charm, because of the medium in which it had been written.

It was crudely scratched on a wide bone.

Rubbing with quill ink helped. The note was succinct:

_RON — DON'T COME ALONE — TRAP — HP_

Hermione didn't know what this was all about, but she could almost guess. She quickly arose, dressed for travel, and hurried away with Hedwig into the shadows of a sleeping Hogwarts.

-o-

Ron, still dripping from the storm, checked the Adventure book one more time. It was tough keeping track of what the current maze was called. _If we were a bit more keen _he thought, _we would have permanently marked the route in both directions on the first trip_.

He reached another branch in the tunnel. _Okay, concentrate, genius. I'm coming out of the Twisty Maze of Little Passages — so, this is the Maze of Little Twisting Passages on the left, and the Little Twisting Maze of Passages on the right. Do it proper, now. I want to go left... no, right!_

In the end, it didn't really matter which way he chose. When Ron stepped into the intersection, the floor of the tunnel gave way. A heavily weighted net dropped on him from above, and a crude alarm gong banged as he went down. Like Harry, he struggled to reach for his wand, but it was hopeless.

All too soon came limping footsteps, grunts, and the odor of troll.

-o-

For a moment, the figure in the shadows of Dumbledore's office pondered the next move.

"You really know where Harry went, and why, but you won't tell me?"

"Now, Miss Granger!" answered the Sorting Hat. "I pledged my secrecy in the matter. Harry wouldn't have insisted if it weren't important. My lips are sealed... or they would be, if I had lips."

Then, a strange smile formed; she chuckled. "Yes, you will tell me." She began searching around Dumbledore's desk, then looked through her own pockets.

The hat was startled. "I... I detect a certain deviltry coming over you, and I'm very surprised at you. I hope you're not planning some trick. I shan't be inveigled easily."

"Trick the great Sorting Hat? Oh, no. We're past tricks. I tried being reasonable. Let's see, it's here someplace... Ah! Here it is! Is _this_ convincing enough?"

"Aggggghhh! You wouldn't use that!"

"I'm sorry about this, but I'm quite desperate, so let's hurry along, please. Tell me what I need to know. Don't make me use this."

"You _wouldn't!_"

"Try me."

-o-

Ron, bound hand and foot in ropes, landed with a thump on the littered floor. The door was slammed shut, leaving him in total darkness. "Bloody troll," he muttered.

He was not alone. A familiar voice said, "I _told_ you not to come alone. I hope you didn't."

"Harry?"

"Who else. I'm over here, sitting up against the wall."

Ron started inching through the darkness toward the voice. "I must have missed something. You told me what?"

"Oh, no...Ron, you didn't get my message?"

"What message?"

"So no one else knows we're here?"

"No, just me. I came looking for you."

"Then we're done. Hedwig found me, and I sent word to not come by yourself, that it was a trap! Unless you came with a small army, we're sunk."

"Well, any one coming through the tunnel is going to get nabbed, too. The troll must have figured we got in there, and opened up a pitfall trap. It was between the twisty maze of little... oh, whatever. How much trouble are we in?"

"You'll be sorry you asked. Mystery solved, Ron; the goblins _have_ been leaving Hordgrund on their own, one by one, out of fear. They didn't want anyone stopping them, so they left by the only way where they wouldn't be seen by the other goblins. They waited til dark, then climbed onto the troll's causeway... but he had set pitfall traps there, too, and nabbed them. Goblins can't shout, so they couldn't call for help."

"So he's locking them up, just because they were trespassing on his stupid road?"

"No. He needed them, Ron, because he was too injured to hunt much any more."

"But the other goblins hunt in the same forest as he does. How could he force them to hunt for him, without being caught at it?"

"He couldn't."

"So what's he been doing with them?"

"We underestimated him." Harry was slow in answering. "He's been _eating _them."

"WHAT?"

"But I think his diet just changed. Instead of goblins, he nabbed us. Ron, I'm his next meal."

-o-

It was like "Accio Hedwig" again. Hedwig couldn't get used to the sensation of flying with her wings tucked, but all in all, she was content to be cuddled under Hermione's slicker. With the force of the storm at their backs, they should be in Hordgrund quickly enough… if they didn't run into a tree! Hermione was really awful at flying a broom, and the storm wasn't helping any.

The broom took another sudden dip in altitude. For the first time in her life, Hedwig was airsick.

-o-

Harry continued explaining to Ron. "The first room I was put in was littered with goblin bones; he must cook them and eat them there. That was the only writing materials I had for sending the owl post with Hedwig. When he tied me up and moved me here, there was a goblin, also tied up. He told me how he'd gottten there, and what he had heard and seen. Tonight, the troll came for him. I have a feeling I'm tomorrow's meal. And now, you're here. He'll eat well this Christmas…"

"This is grotesque!"

"I'll really try to loosen you, Ron; maybe I'll do better on yours than mine. I'll gnaw them, or whatever I can do, but I don't think it'll work. The ropes are rough, but very strong and tight. I've been all over the floor looking for something sharp enough to cut them, but that was a waste."

"Can we dig our way out through the floor?"

"No, I tried that. The floor is just dirty. A inch or so down is solid rock slabs. It's a castle floor, after all."

"Harry, we can't stay here if he's going to eat us!"

"We could always hope for outside help. But you're telling me my note went nowhere — and I saw to it the hat won't tell anyone. Ron, we've doomed ourselves."


	5. Chapter 5

**5. At troll standi fyrir dyrum**

"I found you in Hell — don't you  
think I can find you in Jersey?"  
- _What Dreams May Come_

"There are more important things —  
friendship, and bravery, and —  
oh Harry — be _careful!"  
- Philosopher's Stone_

Latches rattled; the tall door creaked open, awakening Harry.

The faintest glimmer of predawn light shone on the opposite wall, and on the door was the dim shadow of the bulky troll, about to enter.

_Oh, no, _thought Harry, wriggling in helplessness. _It must be hungry already_.

At that moment, there was one loud, resounding metallic gong..

_He's trapped another goblin — or another human! Oh, please don't let it be someone looking for us!_

Fortunately, this time, it wasn't one of the troll's traps sounding victory.

Instead, the troll's head wavered, and he toppled through the doorway to the floor, quite unconscious.

Another shadow appeared on the door. The apparent gong-weapon was tossed in the door, again conking the troll and resounding loudly in the room.

A wet, bedraggled silhouette in a hooded coat came through the doorway, stepping over the troll.

"If you're in here, Ron Weasley, we're even now ... troll for troll."

They would know that voice anywhere.

_"Hermione?"_

"At your service!"

In her happiness, she started to mindlessly stumble and crawl toward the voice in the darkness. Yes, she could have done a _Lumos_ — if she had thought of it. Like Hedwig, she was still very addled from her experience. "Sorry I took so long, guys. The storm, you know. Even Hedwig wouldn't fly the route again; I had to carry her under my coat. And you know how I detest flying, to begin with."

Ron was amazed. "But... I had the guidebook! How did you get through the tunnels without knowing all the twisty-turny-mazy passage things?"

"Why would I go through all that? We knew where the exit in the courtyard was, so I just flew low until I found the courtyard, and started from there... Ron! You're not telling me you crawled through that stupid tunnel _again!"_

Ron felt flushed. "Well, yeah, I... I might have. Just to be sure of where I was going, y'know."

Hermione mercifully changed the subject. "At any rate, the troll popped out a few minutes ago, and I followed him on the broom. I decided I could disable him the same way you did in First Year, rather than finding out how much cleverer a forest troll really is. So, I brained him with the heaviest object I could find to swing - that gongy thing, from a sprung trap by the courtyard."

"Good shot," said Harry.

"Of course!" she smiled. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Like to," said Ron, "but we're a bit tied up at the moment."

"Oh! No problem," she said, finally reaching them in the pitch dark. "But first — allow me one little overdue something."

Despite all the verbal conflict of recent weeks, each of the boys received a very affectionate hug. (One got a silent kiss as well; should I tell you who?)

In a moment, she was softly crying and shaking. "I saw your jumpers in shreds outside, and Harry's glasses in the mud, and I feared the worst! I had to sit watching for the troll, and hoping he hadn't done something already... well, you know. I swore to myself if I ever saw you two again, alive, I would tell you both how much I ..."

Ron blew a puff of air left and right to push aside his momentary faceful of bushy hair. "Good to see you too, Hermione," replied Ron. "Not to spoil the moment, but, uh... wand time? Ropes? Knots? Killer troll?"

"Oh, yes! Of course. Sorry for the sob stuff," sniffed Hermione, wiping her tears and taking out her wand. "_Liberare impedimentas," _she waved, quickly loosening the ropes.

In the brightness of the wand flash, she took in the scene. "OHMIGOD!"

She quickly stood up and turned away.

"I'm so _sorry_!" she squeaked, "I wasn't thinking! Now I suppose you wish it wasn't me here, considering that... well, you know — that you're..."

What had Hermione suddenly discovered?

Well, it shouldn't be all that surprising, dear readers. When you're going to cook something, you remove it from its outer packaging, don't you? The troll had simply relieved the boys of all their wrappings. Hermione had seen their discarded robes and torn jumpers, but hadn't made the mental leap to this conclusion! Don't worry, she didn't see anything improper. (And neither will you, because this is Hedwig's tale, and she wouldn't let that happen. No peeking in your imagination, now.)

"Sorry," said Harry. "We should have warned you. The troll was getting us ready to cook us. He was _eating_ the goblins; we were next."

"I belatedly guessed it was something like that, from the scapula bone you sent."

"This is beyond embarrassing, but we've got to get up now, and hog-tie the troll before he wakes. Okay? Sorry."

"Oh! Of course." Hermione briefly lit the room to get her bearings, then hit the unconscious troll with an _Immobulus_ charm. She stepped over his feet and stood outside the doorway, looking out. (No, I don't suppose she would have taken any curious glances backward as Harry and Ron stood up, brushing themselves off. It was too dark. And it would be out of character. Right?) "It's okay, guys, really," she ran on. "I'm sorry it's me here. Forget it's me."

In fact, everyone was sorry at once. They were stumbling all over each other to be sorry.

"Sorry," said Ron. "Wouldn't want to offend you, y'know. I'm sure you shan't be peeking in at us while you're standing there, right?"

"Sorry," said Hermione. "Did it seem like I was peeking? I...I'm looking away."

"Sorry," said Ron and Harry together. They quickly tied the troll's wrists and ankles with the ropes.

"It's nothing, really," she said. "...sorry. Oh, and, Harry, here's your glasses." She handed them over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Hermione...sorry, " said Harry, putting the muddy glasses on. "Uh... you saw our stuff?"

"No, I'm _not _looking... oh, your stuff! Sorry. It... it's all outside here, in this great mud puddle. But as I said, the troll ripped the jumpers to shreds getting them off you, and I suppose he tore the lot. Except the robes; I saw them somewhere, and they were in one piece. Just find them, and you can wrap them around you."

"Well, that's good to know," said Ron. "If they're in one piece, then maybe our wands are, too. Uh...sorry, can we slide past you?"

"Oh! Sure," she said, stepping out of the doorway into the cold drizzle and averting her eyes again. "Sorry. The robes shan't be very warm in this weather, but it beats the alternative, right?"

The boys left the room, Ron muttering to Harry, "Just our luck, at a time like this, to be rescued by a _girl_."

Hermione, just the bit tweaked by that remark, stared off into space and smiled broadly. _Oh, why not have a little fun with these two? _she thought, and started in on them. "Although — if you don't find the robes, it won't be so bad. So you have to walk through Hogwarts starkers to get to your room. So what? I'm sure the girls won't…."

"HERMIONE!" Harry pleaded. "Please? We're embarrassed enough as it is! Sorry. Blame the troll. You just keep looking away, and we'll have the robes on in a minute... well, as soon as we find them in this mess."

"Okay, Harry," said Hermione — and continued winding them up. "It was going to be a compliment, really. How about you, Ron; I suppose you wouldn't like a compliment, either?"

"HERMIONE! IF YOUR EYES ARE CLOSED PROPER, YOU SHOULDN'T BE SEEING ANYTHING TO COMPLIMENT!"

"I guess that's a no. Well, don't worry about me. Forget I'm here." There was a pause, then she added, "Take your time."

"TAKE OUR TIME?" shouted Ron. "This is awful. Hermione, if you keep standing there sneaking peeks and enjoying this, we're going to have to blank your memory!"

"Please don't," she smirked, trying hard not to laugh. "I want to remember you two just as you are."

"H E R M I O N E !" yelled both.

Hedwig, ever the steadfast faithful owl, quietly watched from beneath an overhang, trying to dry off in the wintry air. She was so glad to see Harry again, but she wasn't about to land on him in his present state. Oh, she had seen Harry featherless before; ho hum. Birds pride themselves on plumage! To Hedwig's eyes, Harry and Ron wearing nothing but goosebumps looked as unattractive as a plucked chicken would look to you or me.

Magic was a simple answer to their problem, but the boys had been up all night too, and were as mentally exhausted as Hermione. She came to her senses first.

"Should I help you, before we all freeze to death?" Hermione asked finally.

"Help us how?" said Ron.

"Well, I am a card-carrying witch, y'know."

"Well, there's something we can all agree on," replied Ron, taking his life in his hands.

"Ooooh, you two!" she said, exasperated. "At this rate, we'll be here all morning. Never mind, I'll do it anyway. _Accio_ robes!" In just a moment, their muddy robes flew out of the mire and into her hands. As well, there were a few goblin-size robes from their less fortunate predecessors.

"There we are. Gryffindor robes for sale," she announced, "two sickles each, pay me later. Proceeds to benefit S.P.E.W. Here's yours, Harry; half-price for you, since I learnt that charm when we trained you up on summoning last month."

Harry quickly accepted his robe and wrapped himself. "Why didn't I think of that? Thanks again, Hermione."

Ron danced around, trying to hide behind Harry until he could reach around him for his robe. Just for fun, Hermione handed Ron one of the tiny goblin robes.

"H E R M I O N E !"

"Just kidding. Here." She held out the proper robe, still averting her view.

"After all, Hermione," said Ron, "if this was _you_, do you think for one minute Harry and I would have been peeking?"

Hermione and a robed Harry glanced at each other, and rolled their eyes. Harry, with a chuckle, answered for them.

"Ron... shut up."

Once more equipped with his wand, Harry summoned his Firebolt from the courtyard, then Ron's broom from the cavern entrance. Hermione left them gathering what they could of their torn belongings, while she went off to notify the goblins about the trussed-up troll and its gruesome deeds.

-o-

Boda, the town official who had suspected the troll all along, was so happy at being vindicated that he immediately paid S.P.E.W. dues — though he put the badge away. (If he had spoken English, he would have found even more reason for it to be inappropriate at this occasion.) He roused the town guard.

When last seen by the departing trio, the goblins of Hordgrund were angrily plotting all sorts of atrocious revenges, even discussing a troll roast . No, no, no, not even a goblin would actually eat a troll, but just the thought of roasting him warmed their bitter little hearts for the moment.

In the end, the goblins reluctantly despatched an raven to the Ministry to arrange for more conventional justice, then proceeded to the dreadful task of caring for the remains of their missing ones. Thoughtfully, Hermione gave them the inscribed goblin bone that had saved the boys' lives.

There would be no more trolls in Hordgrund Castle.

The trio, their little deed done, turned for home.


	6. Chapter 6

-1**6. Trolla-páttr**

Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill;  
But let it whistle as it will,  
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.  
- _Marmion_

With a wave of Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's hand, a light Christmas breakfast was served. Thanks to the Triwizard Tournament, and the fact the storm had now turned to heavy snow and ice, the Great Hall was almost filled. It hadn't hosted this many diners on a Christmas morning since the travel restrictions of World War II.

The three Gryffindors might be excused if they didn't feel like being near food for a few days, but that wasn't the case; they were wolfing down full portions, and of course Ron was leading the pack. Between mouthfuls, he raised a few questions on the previous day's events.

"So explain to me, Hermione. How could you possibly know where we were?" asked Ron, adorned in Harry's newly-knitted dragon jumper. "Even Dumbledore didn't know."

"Hedwig knew," answered Hermione, sporting a red Christmas bow in her hair. "When she got back to Hogwarts with Harry's message, she couldn't find you. So, she came to me. Girls stick together like that, y'know."

"And what did Hedwig do, write it on a mirror with lipstick?"

"I wish she had; it would have saved a lot of trouble, just to find out where you were. First, I had to 'borrow' Angelina's broom. Then Hedwig and I went to Dumbledore's office — we flew in his astronomy window, to avoid Filch — and roused the Sorting Hat in the middle of the night. It interpreted bird-talk for me, and Hedwig told us where you were — but not why. In the course of it, the hat sounded like it knew something more, and I quizzed it... and it told me all about your little sojourn that he sparked by mentioning the boot."

Harry was shocked. "_The hat blabbed? _I swore it to secrecy!"

"Fortunately, you extracted a promise instead of using a charm. In the end, yes, it blabbed — thank God! I just had to coerce it a bit. Good thing I did, or I might have ended up like you two, sitting there in my birthday suit, waiting to be eaten."

Ron looked up towards the ceiling. "Hermione Granger, trussed up, in her birthday suit. Let me just treasure that mental image for a minute — it's only fair... OW! I was just joking, Hermione!"

Harry, fiddling with his almost-timely gift from Sirius — a pocket knife to cut any knot — looked up, puzzled. "You 'coerced' the hat? How do you coerce a hat?"

She smiled. "Fear me, Harry; I can be _very_ devious if I can just keep my head in a pinch. I needed a way to convince the hat. At first I thought of sharp objects. I was looking on Dumbledore's desk, and my pockets, for scissors or a knife. Then, I found I still had a Hogsmeade purchase in my slicker from the shopping trip. Oh, it was perfect for the job! Remember our run-in with Salazar Slytherin — how the hat ended up drunk as a skunk from the tanner's leather polish?"

"Hermione! Tell me you didn't get the hat sozzled!"

"I would have. But I guessed it would _never_ want that morning-after sensation again, ever! So, I dangled your harmless little bottle of liquid boot polish in front of it, and threatened to apply a few generous, intoxicating coats — and the hat sang like a canary."

-o-

The whole school found out about Horgund's murderous troll when the _Daily Prophet_ arrived with the post. Of course, the trio knew the story in much more detail than the goblins had given the reporters, but kept it to themselves.

Well, almost. Girls confide.

In mid-morning, Hermione and Ginny were sitting in a corner of the common room, whispering to each other, giggling and chuckling. When they spotted Ron and Harry, it only got worse; the girls went into loud, uncontrollable rolling-on-the-floor laughter, gasping for breath, pounding on the cushions and pointing at the two boys.

Ron shook his head, unsmiling. "I tell you, Harry, we should have blanked her memory when we had the chance."

-o-

Owls' tales are an everyday entertainment in the owlery. Hedwig, of course, related her latest tale to all the perked-up ears. They sympathized with her dangerous trip through the storm, and noted how cleverly she had communicated with Hermione. She conveniently omitted her moment of airsickness; what self-respecting owl would confess such a thing?

The highlight of her story was a timely visit from two Hordgrund ravens, who had braved the snowstorm to deliver her a Christmas package from the goblins in thanks. When the straw wrapping was torn open, it proved to be a generous snack for the owls. Appropriately, it was a large packet of delicious seed from the wild flowering plant of Scotland known as Hogwort.

-o-

"That's quite a topper to cap your adventure, Potter!" said the Sorting Hat.

Harry had been summarising it all to Dumbledore in his office — and trying to explain why one of the Headmaster's books and a very nice compass were still lying in a pit in a cave near Hordgrund. He paused, and looked up to the Sorting Hat on its high shelf and smiled.

"I walked into another trap, just as you've been warning me. But, we solved it, with your help, and I'm back again, still in one piece. By the way, Hermione Granger apologises for troubling you in the middle of the night."

"Miss Granger and Hedwig were quite insistant on finding you, and it seemed dire enough to break my oath of silence, to help save you lot."

"Thanks for doing so, and believe it or not, the same from Ron. We would have been troll crumpets otherwise. You also saved a lot more goblins from death. I know you broke your promise with good reason, and dignity... and polish."

"Ahem. Well, yes... polish. Polish did play a significant part in it."

Dumbledore rose from the desk. "We'll all be too busy later today to talk properly, what with the ball. However, I am entitled to dine at the Gryffindor table, so if I might join you, perhaps you three can finish your tale over the midday banquet. I hear that it will begin with a delicious bowl of mugga, which you must sample."

Harry nodded, rose, and glanced once more at the high shelf.

"Happy Christmas, sir hat."

"Happy Christmas indeed, Mr. Potter..  
**Wizards and witches  
Of prestidigious riches,  
Willing and worthy,  
Watchful and sturdy.  
Hogwarts forever,  
Forevermoooore!"**


End file.
